Beholder

Beholder
By: P. Christopher

After calling him to dinner for the fourth time, Anne gave up and headed for the stairs.

It was as she expected. The computer screen was half full of paragraphs, and there was Jack, kicked back in his chair, arms forming a triangle in front of him, his eyes glazed over as they stared out the window in front of his desk. Though his body was clearly present, it was obvious to Anne that her husband’s mind was gone again. Wandering. Exploring. Jack may as well have been in another country.

Anne used to find this pose rather romantic before they had gotten married- the young writer off in his own world. But lately it had only served as a source of frustration. After all, what was so wrong with being here with her?

Fed up with being ignored, Anne stormed across the room and toppled Jack from his chair. He blinked a couple times as though he was unsure if what just happened was real.

“Anne? What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asked.

“What’s going on?” she repeated, throwing up her arms. “You’ve been up here all day everyday for a solid month! I never see you, Jack!”

Picking himself up, he said, “But, honey, I’m in the middle of a book right now.”

Tears streamed down Anne’s face. “You’re always in the middle of book or a story! Always using that award winning imagination of yours to take off to some new place!”

Jack reached out to her, but she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you leave me behind! I’m tired of being left behind! What is it, Jack? Do you have some dream girl out there in Never Never Land?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Anne. Of course not.”

“Then what is it? What makes those places better than here? When your mind wanders do you ever take me with you? Do you ever once think about me?”

Jack turned away as if she had slapped him.

“That’s what I thought,” she said.

“It’s not like that. It’s just I never thought you’d want to go any of those places. You never read any of my books.”

“Jack, I’m your wife. I love you. I don’t care where we go as long as we are together.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I just…”

“Supper’s ready!” she snapped as she left, slamming the door behind her.

Later that night Anne started awake, suddenly acutely aware that someone was watching her. It was Jack.

“You scared me!” she scolded.

“I’m sorry, Anne,” said Jack, looking quite the chastised child. “I really am. But I want to make it up to you. I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. Sweetheart, I have always wanted to bring you with me. It’s lonely out there, but it’s something I have to do.”

“Please, Jack, come to bed,” she pleaded, rubbing her eyes. “We can discuss this in the morning.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, a note of excitement in his tone. “We’re both still asleep.”

Anne buried her face in the pillow. “What are you talking about?” she moaned.

“We’re sharing a dream, you and I. It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what, Jack?” she asked, sitting up, her frustration mounting. It had been a long day and she didn’t want to be having this conversation. And, though she wasn’t ready to admit it, there was a part of her that was feeling guilty for her behavior earlier.

“It’s the only way we can go together. You still want to go don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. But can’t it wait until morning?”


“No,” he said, “We have to do it tonight. I don’t know if I can find the door again.” Jack had taken her hand and was gently tugging her out of bed.

Anne capitulated knowing that the sooner he got this out of his system, the sooner she could get back to sleep. Besides, she had brought it upon herself. “Alright, let’s go.”

Jack led her to the bedroom door. When he opened it, the light from the hall was blinding. “Come on,” he urged.

“I’m coming,” she said, putting a hand up to shield her eyes. Behind her, the door slammed hard, sending echoes rippling through her mind.

Finally, her eyes adjusted.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Jack. He sounded like a proud parent. “I love it here. It’s paradise!”

Beautiful. Paradise. These were not the words Anne would have picked to describe the world spread out before her. And indeed it was a world. A world far removed from the one she knew. Her tongue could not find the words to describe it. Her mind strained to maintain sanity while trying to make sense of what her eyes beheld.

“We’ve done it, Anne! We stepped out of the so-called ‘real world’ into a world I’ve created just for us! We’ll live here forever!”

So Anne screamed and screamed, because she knew it was true. Because this is what she said she wanted. Because she should have known that “beauty” and “paradise” would be radically different when beheld by the mind’s eye of the world’s foremost writer of horror.

“I love you, Anne!” said Jack.

And she knew he meant it.

The End